(A bit of character assassination)
Given that the play has moments of obscurity,
even before it tumbles into awkwardness,
and admitting further that a character
who has to face a bungled plot
cannot be held responsible for all his failures,
Hamlet truly is pathetic:
seeing ghosts and playing hard to get,
fleeing to England and then back again,
suddenly deciding madness is its [...]
Fireflies and flowers and mummified pharaohs:
everything’s dying with breakneck speed.
All of our moments are dying around us;
we’re shedding our breath with our skin.
Mozart is gone and so is next century;
now is the skull within.
There are no morals and there is no prayer
against or to Entropy.
Fireflies and flowers and mummified pharaohs:
it has been tried in bronze [...]
So, it’s bubbly
and what of it?
Drowning men
can tell you
that has nothing much to do
with taste
Full moon and out of whiskey,
almost out of money
and half out of my mind,
I scribble notes;
my thoughts are drawn
in black and Sartre.
I can almost touch
the lady of the lake,
the woman of all lonely dreams,
sitting next to me
on her pale pedestal,
ordering Daiquiris like so many ships.
And she couldn’t care less
about another soaking wreck,
drawn in prying, floating [...]
He watches them from the room’s only window, late in the evening, or when he wakes up from a dream in the middle of the night.
The dreams are clear and show the past: a wife, children, a job, a house. When he wakes up the veil comes down again, quiet and intangible, unbeatable. Then the [...]
The dragon slept in the heart of the mountain. It dreamt of rivers of fire and molten flesh, that transformed the valley below into a lake of blood-red flames. It dreamt that the moon caught fire and broke into pieces, which came down in a red rain that wrapped the earth in a burning [...]
There was road rage and road kill
on each slippery stone
of the highway to Heaven -
and bumper to bumper,
drive-by hysterics
of mad, gridlocked souls.
Oh, the pushing and shoving
on the stairway to Heaven;
terrible cursing,
when soles stepped on fingers;
horrible screaming,
when the dearly departed fell off.
So, my love,
we won’t go there.
We’ll go deep down and dirty;
sniffing the sulphur, so close
to [...]
Â
For R.Â
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”
Pablo Neruda
1) I love the way your colours run through me
I love the way your colours run through me;
the way your dreams like landscapes grow
(like road maps, towers, rivers, trees
mushrooming like crazy)
inside me,
till I lie - so full,
so blissfully aware that I [...]